This morning I wandered through a cathedral.  Worship was going on in parts of it, but not all.

I wandered through, looking up at the infinite, vaulted ceiling, around at the artwork, the icons.  I saw the most gorgeous web, and gave thanks.  Leaves of all colors.  I noticed how cold the place had become, how I could see my breath.  The sun making eddies of light. 

I noticed worshippers asleep, awake, wandering with purpose, without it.  Mostly they were few.  Later in the day there would be more of them.  More of them visible.

And there was music.  Ancient tunes.  Later would be modern stuff with it, but now it was only the ancient choir, robed in leaves, feathers, furs.  And me.  My feet, my breath joined their refrain:  “Glory!” (a wordless translation of that).  “Glory!”

Quietly (from where I was) priests presided.  Priests preaching and praying and calling to worship.  Calling the faithful toward powers and gods (only some of them religious).  I hoped I could hear the ones calling toward Life.

The sanctuary began to warm, and I too, wandering, listening, glorying, giving thanks.  Parts of it stayed cold; parts of it were filled with horrors unspeakable, souls starved and turned inward, walls crumbled and painted with signs only youth can understand.  But where I was, the view from where I wandered, filled me up with holy.  It filled me up and sent me home in wonder, a more beautiful, more centered soul.

This entry was posted on Sunday, December 4th, 2005 at 4:17 pm and is filed under Mindfulness, Bridge-building, Religion/Spirituality. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.